Python enters his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He sets his guns down in the corner and detaches his Vulcans. He sets them down in the corner and sits on the bed. He puts his head in hands. [i]Michael, does she forgive me?[/i] [i]She does. She is forgiving and understanding of you.[/i] [i]Good.[/i] He looks around the room, seeing his old armor and weapons and spoils of war and whatnot, thinking to himself. [i]What have I done in my life besides cause death?[/i] [i]Well, nothing really.[/i] He sighes and picks up his guitar. Python plays a few chords, resembling Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here. [i]Is it possible to bring her back?[/i] [i]I do not believe so. That is up to God and God only.[/i] Python sets down his guitar and thinks about the team. [i]They all seem great. That virus....if it returns, it will wipe us out. Kill us all.[/i] [i]You will not die. God will not allow it yet.[/i] [i]Yet? What am I a puppet?[/i] [i]More a pawn than a puppet.[/i] [i]Cause that makes me feel a lot better. [/i] His train of thought shifts to what Sharpshooter had said. [i]Is he really from the future? That's batshit crazy.[/i] [i]You've seen crazier. Hell, you've done crazier.[/i] [i]Valid point.[/i] He starts getting ready for bed, taking off his shirt. He climbs into bed and drifts off to sleep. [spoiler]Dream post below this. Closed however.[/spoiler]